love this way
by fallenxfate
Summary: [Prompt: days] It has been twenty four days since you left home. [written for fanfic100][jinmichiru][in other notes, quite and officially least popular story written yet. I'm so proud. xD]
1. ends

**A/N**: Hello my dears, here I am again with a Kamichama Karin fanfiction. If you don't know, I claimed Jin/Michiru on fanfic100 on LiveJournal. So if you can, watch me there - link on profile, I think. I won't be updating this nearly as quickly as my LiveJournal. -dies- Isn't it ironic I choose 'ends' as my first prompt?  
**Notes:** Ugh... Do not read if you haven't read Chu yet...use your brain...don't do drugs.

* * *

**To Twilight  
**003. Ends

* * *

"Well, this is the end, I suppose," mused a figure in blue, looking to the sun to find solace and finding none.

A person dressed in black looked to the sky. "No, my dear Neptune," he said slowly. "We still have a ways to our final destination."

"And what path do you say we follow?" asked Neptune teasingly. "The road to dawn… the road to a new beginning, hmm, Hades?"

"That path has been closed to us for a long time," replied Hades, closing his golden eyes. "We shall look to the twilight, and it will be beautiful. And then we will head to our death."

"And what a wonderful end it will be… a fitting death for two gods, exiled because they dared to love."

They walked to night, each step bringing them closer to the end.

* * *

99 chapters to go! They will be longer though... 


	2. sound

**A/N**: Officially my least popular story ever. Lyk omg. I was totally, lyk, not expecting that. All one of you that probably reads this. xD

* * *

Sonata

037. Sound

* * *

_spiritoso_

Jin knows the little-girl innocence of strawberry chapstick and gently spun sugar, of music (pure, simple, _beautiful _beyond splendor itself), and this is not it. _His_ fingers, refined and elegant, turn into sharp instruments of reckless noise; the score turns into a venom-laced parody of what was once there, now gone, though he fools herself into believing it remains. It is a successful sleight, it seems, and he can almost pretend that it is reality.

_His_ expression is grave and the charming notes of cleverly-written music turn sour in the air, although the audience is silently oblivious: they only hear the notes of a score made by a long-dead musical genius. Their names blur and their triumphs fade, and who would they be, for them to judge the notes caught between soft, smooth legato and biting, detached staccato?

_andante con espressione_

Jin sits in the audience, and listens to forced expression in a slow fairy-tale gone wrong. Every measure is a growing vine of thorns and thistle, wrapping ancient castles of kings and queens, ensnaring royalty and commoners alike and he is the careful traveler who tries not to be tricked by the promising flower buds of the vines; who tries to see the thorns behind them, trying so hard not to get caught by a wonderful, false dream: to remember reality – because it is surely a promise to be broken.

The notes stretch into infinity, and yet it seems that earth and time slows to compensate, until the slow grace of ungainly scores finally passes some unseen mark and speeds back into the realm of time. The flowers bloom, and their scent is almost sickly-sweet, but they serve their purpose, and soon, the castle will fall into oblivion – into infinity, where the music leads them, the ignorant spectators, tricked again and again by the half-completed deceptions.

_allegro di molto_

The half-notes and whole-notes seem to die away, into eternity, and as they disappear into cold, unforgiving echoes, so does the audience: fading like ghosts. The notes care not for who listens but for _the end_, the safety of silence once more, until it just him and her: the last two, untamed by false tunes, but the music is unrelenting and it isn't over quite yet, no…

_He_ looks away from the music (haunted and unforgiving) and turns to meet Jin's cursory glance. _I can't really play, you know, it was just a passing fancy, to feel like I could_, and in that moment the notes seem to reply _we know, we know you can't, but it's alright._

And then the music ends, and Jin, the last of the crowd, fades – finally caught in the illusions of beauty, only to be bound into bittersweet forever by winding melody and twisted harmony.


	3. passing

**On the Streets  
**065. Passing

* * *

Jin passed Michiru in the streets exactly three times every week. On Mondays, they walked by each other on State Avenue, at exactly four-thirty-seven P.M. Sometimes, if they were close to the Starbucks, one of them would go in for a frappuccino, but usually they just passed, wordlessly glancing at each other.

The second time was Tuesdays, when Jin took a shortcut through the park so he could get to work quicker (and thus get the extra cup of coffee and doughnut), and Michiru was out with Suzune, being a dutiful babysitter for the neighborhood parents, Mr. Kazune Kujyou and Mrs. Karin Kujyou. Suzune would usually wave at Jin, and Michiru would join, but oftentimes he passed unseen, though he _always_ saw them there.

The last time was Saturday, because every Saturday Michiru went out with his friends Yuuki, Kirika, Miyon, Kirio, and Himeka, doing 'teenager' things. Kirika and Yuuki had the tendency of lightly flirting with each other, whereas Miyon and Kirio, Jin observed, was more of the childish pair. He wondered if Himeka and Michiru were dating countless times. They certainly saw each other a lot, considering Michiru lived next door to the Kujyou family. Jin also went out, but with his own crowd – celebrities and the like, and usually the two small groups crossed paths – although he usually wished he could leave and join the other group of friends.

Really, though, it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a big deal that Michiru wasn't near or at Starbucks on Monday, or that Tuesday, Himeka was the one out in the park with Suzune, and it bothered him even _less_ that when he was out, he didn't see Michiru at any of the usual places. They were just acquaintances, who passed each other on the streets three times every week. The only reason they knew each other was because Jin's parents were friends with the Kujyous, and had been invited over to a little get-together one afternoon, and it turned out that Himeka had accidentally told Michiru he could come over that same time if he wanted to – which, of course, he did. Jin could hardly recall introducing himself to Michiru, let alone _talking_ to him.

Okay, so it bothered him a little bit, but he decided to chalk it off to being too used to routine. But when it happened for the third week in a row, he forsook the coffee and doughnut on Tuesday to stop and talk to Himeka.

"Hey, Himeka, long time no see," he called, waving frantically. _Well, more accurately…long time no _talk_; lately I've been seeing a lot of you lately, and not much of Michiru._

"Oh…hello, Jin," she said politely. "Um, what brings you here?"

"Well, I noticed you here, and wanted to ask you something…" Jin trailed off, wondering how he should phrase it.

"Go on," prompted Himeka, tugging on Suzune's hand as the child attempted to get away.

"Usually Michiru is here babysitting, I was just wondering if something was wrong?" Jin blurted out. "I mean…if you don't know, that's okay, I was just curious."

"_Oh_. Well, you should probably talk to him," she said, but seemed to think better of it. "Then again, probably not. I don't know if he wants to talk to you right now."

"What? Why would he not want to talk to me?" asked Jin, perplexed. "I hardly talk to him anyways."

"That's kind of the point. Here, Suzune, I see Mrs. Karasuma out with Rika, why don't you go play?" Himeka let the blonde boy go, and Suzune promptly ran off to talk to his friend.

Himeka led Jin to a bench and motioned for him to sit. "Lately, Michiru has been talking a lot, about you, I mean. Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm really bad at this kind of thing," Himeka said. "I get really nervous…"

"Don't be, okay? I just want to know what's up. No big deal."

The black-haired girl took a deep breath. "Well, anyways, he mentioned how you guys always see each other on the streets and stuff. Like…he said that on Monday, you two usually go by a Starbucks, and every once in awhile you ask him if he wants to go in for a drink or something –"

Jin frowned; did he really? Now that he thought about it...

"– and you always get Double Chocolate Chip and he gets Vanilla Bean and you always insist on paying."

…that did seem to be accurate. He wondered how that could have slipped his mind.

"And every Wednesday, whenever he's here babysitting, you always wave back when he and Suzune wave. And on Saturdays when we're out and you're out you guys talk about random stuff and…well…"

"Yes?" Jin asked. She couldn't stop, not when she was finally getting to the part he wanted to hear about.

Himeka paused for a deep breath. "Well, he doesn't know what to think anymore, Jin!" she said loudly, attracting attention from nearby passers. As the stares died away, she continued. "I mean, he doesn't get it. He _thinks_ you're leading him on, and if not that, flirting, but the thing is, is, is that he doesn't know whether you're _into_ guys or not. So he really doesn't know what to do, because he's afraid that if he talks to you then you'll be a homophobe or something and totally hate him forever, and because he wants to be your friend he doesn't want to do that! And that's partially because his parents were really, really mad when he told them he was bisexual, which is why he's at our house a lot."

Jin opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, but nothing came out, and Himeka went on. "And, I mean, you've been sending him mixed signals – sometimes you seem interested and other times you totally ignore him. And it, you know –"  
She didn't get a chance to finish, because Jin had bolted.

Well, he definitely wasn't going to get the extra doughnut now, but work could wait until the next day…the thought vaguely entered his mind, that perhaps he should call in and say he wouldn't make it but, but he seemed unable to link one thought to another.

He ended up on the Nishikiori's doorstep, panting for breath while ringing the doorbell. A short, petite woman answered, and for a few moments she looked confused at why a complete stranger ended up by her house, but her face soon lit up with recognition.

"Oh, you're Kuga Jin! What in the wo – what are you – I mean, what brings you here?" stammered Michiru's mother (or so he assumed).

"Umm, is Michiru in right now? I kind of need to talk to him."

Mrs. N gave him a slightly disapproving look, but seemed to think better of it and just said, "He's at the Kujyou's house… as usual."

"Oh, thanks," replied Jin half-heartedly, wondering why he didn't think to check _there_ first. Without further conversation, he left, walking through the two yards (and leaving a sizable dent in one of the bushes).

Ringing _their_ doorbell, he heard a loud _thump_ from inside the house – he assumed this was one of the inhabitants rushing to get the door. The door swung open haphazardly, and Jin was greeted with a, "Hello, sorry, wasn't expecting company and – oh. Hey, Jin."

"Hey, Michiru," he replied. "Haven't seen you around lately."

"Well I, you know, have been, kind of, uh, um…" Jin interrupted the half-formed excuse by pressing his lips to the other's, effectively silencing him.

"Oh god, Michiru, why didn't you just _say_ something?" Jin asked after stepping away from the heterochrome's personal space.

"…It had _something_ to do with the fact that your first crush was on Mrs. Kujyou?"

"I was _five_, give me a _break_."

And while their relationship was shaky (but still wonderful and full of love) at best – between Jin's job and other circumstances – he suddenly found that he wasn't passing Michiru in the streets anymore. Now he was the one walking with him.


	4. rain

**drift  
**066. Rain

* * *

A spring day, it is raining.

"Let's go out into the rain," he suggests, propping his head up on a hand, "and spin in circles. We'll make the water dance for us and make the clouds sing."

"And why would they do that?" I ask.

Smiling, he replies, "Why wouldn't they?"

He has me there, so we go outside, into the rain. And as he says, the water dances…the clouds sing.

I gaze upon him, and I wonder if they do it for him.

* * *

A summer night, it is clear and quiet.

"Let's dance in the rain," he says vacantly.

I look out the window. "It isn't raining."

He waggles a finger at me. "Ah, it is not, but it's the thought that counts."

So outside I am dragged, and together we do some sort of crazy dance. He seems sure of what his feet are supposed to do, and nimbly prances around, leading me in a wild, made-up dance.

Sure enough, the clouds split and rain comes tumbling to earth – he really is a god of water, isn't he, or perhaps he has just trodden upon a long-forgotten rain dance?

* * *

An autumn afternoon, it is dark overhead.

"Looks like it's going to rain," he muses. "Perhaps… I should go out? Maybe later…"

And as he speaks, fat little blots of water begin to litter the ground, melding with the earth and streaking the windows. "…I see how it is," he murmurs, closing his eyes.

I put a hand on his shoulder, asking, "Want to go outside?" He looks up, and I can tell he appreciates the prompt.

We walk under the rain until it has passed. Somehow, neither of us gets sick.

* * *

A winter morning, snow falls.

"Snow is just water in another form. It's the same thing," he says to himself, as if he's trying to convince himself of this fact.

"Going out?" I ask. "Make sure to remember your jacket this time. I don't want you sick again."

"Okay, I'll go out, then," he whispers. I somehow know I wasn't supposed to hear that.

* * *

He doesn't come back, you know. But I almost expected it.

The rain comes and goes. I can only hope that it will come back again. And sometimes, when it's raining, I can still see him…he talks to me through the rain.

He tells me, "_Someday._"


	5. if

**Forgotten**  
082. If

* * *

Jin still has faint memories, so vague that he sometimes wonders if they're just ideas of memories. It's almost like the memories aren't in his head, where he can recall them at will, but in his heart, where he must delve into to retrieve the lost memories.

He has an idea of a blonde boy – his friend, yes, but also rival, maybe? A blonde boy with blue eyes, dressed in white. With him always comes the brown-haired girl, a very pretty girl, who seems to have had vibrant green eyes, a goddess clothed in red and pink.

And yet, there is one more, a bit clearer than the other two, but so… far away. He thinks he sees auburn hair, and the most beautiful eyes (one of blue, one of purple), and yet, more so than the other two, he cannot see him…or her? No, he thinks that the person is a he, Jin can…feel it.

Staring at the grandfather clock that stands in his room, the pendulum swings back and forth…back and forth. Tick…tock. Tick…tock. And somewhere between the 'tick's and the 'tock's, he swears he can see the boy turn and smile at him, but the pendulums swings back and takes Jin's memories with it.


	6. independence

**Freedom**  
094. Independence

* * *

"Would you free a bird from a cage, even if you knew the owner would be angry?" Michiru asked, twiddling with the ends of his hair idly. 

"Depends," Jin replied. "Whose bird? Where does the bird live? What's the current season?"

"Just in general, I guess."

"…Yeah, I would, I guess. Everybody deserves a shot at freedom."

"But then… are we really free, Jin?" Michiru pointed out, still playing with his hair.

"Free, how?" Jin asked, gently forcing Michiru's fingers away from his hair before he began ripping it out. "As in, free will?"

"Well, we're confined to Earth. We can only get what we can afford, and we can only get so much money. We make our own choices, but most of the time we aren't the ones who give ourselves choices."

"I get what you're saying," Jin replied quietly. "And…I still would."

"Would you?"

"Yeah. It's not about the freedom, I think. It's about the chance."

And they kissed underneath the fireworks.


	7. insides

**A/N: **Okay, lovelies, I know that at least four of you will read this... because I decided to check my stats and see how wildly unpopular this story is. xD

I love you four very much. Even if you don't comment, just reading this makes me happy inside. And for once, I updated on before on my LiveJournal. xD

**

* * *

****Beautiful**  
004. Insides

* * *

The truth was, Michiru was very, very sick inside. He just didn't tell anybody. He didn't need pity; sickness wasn't enough to cap his vibrancy. Everyday he smiled and everyday he made a difference. And he was stubborn, just as stubborn as he was sick. He refused to tell people he was sick. The only person who knew was his best friend since age three, Kujyou Kazune.

So you can imagine Jin's slight frustration at his boyfriend when Michiru kept falling ill, again and again, without explanation.

"You're really too much trouble," he informed the heterochrome, while making sure he was warmly tucked into bed.

Michiru reached up and patted Jin's hand affectionately. "'Course I am. Now go get me my meds?"

"You should be incredibly grateful that I love you."

The heterochrome laughed weakly. "Love my ass, you mean?"

"That too."

By the time that Jin had gotten his medicine, though, Michiru had already fallen asleep.

* * *

"Michiru keeps getting sick," Jin said quietly, into his phone. "I can't figure it out. Should I take him to the doctor?"

There was a loud _bang_ from the other end. "Sorry about that, Karin's… being herself," Kazune replied. "And, you know, he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

A rush of static went through his phone, the sound of a sigh. "You'd better sit down, if you're not already," Kazune said. "I can't _believe_ he didn't tell you."

"Again, tell me what?"

"Well, Michiru's sick," the blonde said bluntly.

Jin replied, "I know he's sick, Kazune. That's why I _called_."

"No, I mean, really sick! He's probably going to die in a year or two. But he doesn't tell people, because (as you know) he is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be."

"…I see," Jin said quietly. He went to hang up the phone, ignoring the loud protests from Kazune, who could somehow sense his friend's intent – _Don't you dare hang up on me, you idiot! Don't you da – _and put the phone back in its cradle.

* * *

"Okay, Michiru, what's the deal?" Jin asked, as soon as he had woken up.

Michiru sat up. "Kazune told you, didn't he?" he asked. He sighed, but kept talking. "Yeah, I'm going to die. But it's okay. I've had a good life… I've done a lot of things… and I have you, right?"

"You're not afraid?"

"Not afraid of dying. Just afraid of dying too soon, before I've gotten to do everything I want to do…"

Jin smiled vacantly. "Micchi?"

"Yeah?"

"When you're ready to get out of bed… let's do something crazy and stupid."

"Skydiving followed by large portions of ice cream?"

"Perfect."

* * *

A few weeks later, Michiru was hospitalized. Doctors said he only had a few more days to live, but he remained silently happy.

"Jin?" he asked, his voice strangely quiet. "We didn't get to go… skydiving."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Jin replied.

"Don't be. I'm…afraid of heights. Did I ever tell you?"

"No, you didn't."

Silence.

"Jin?" Michiru called again.

"Hmm?"

Silence.

"I love you."

Jin suddenly felt like crying. "I love you too, Micchi."

"And my ass too, right?"

"It's served me well. I'll miss it." He cracked a smile.

"Jin?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Promise me you'll find somebody else," Michiru said. "Promise me. Well… promise me you'll try, at least."

"I…promise."

Silence.

Jin looked down at him. Michiru was fast asleep.

* * *

He died the next day. Jin called Kazune.

"He's dead," Jin said. "He's… dead."

"Are you okay, Jin?" Kazune asked.

"He's dead. And we didn't get to go do anything crazy and stupid. I… told him we would"

"Jin?"

"Kazune."

He could hear Kazune sigh. "Jin, I lied to you. He… was supposed to die one year ago."

"What does that matter, Kazune? What does it matter?"

"Jin… he hung on for one extra year… because of _you_, you idiot. One year ago… he met you. So… stop moping around, because he loved you. He loved you so much, Jin, and he wouldn't want you to be sad. Michiru was… was really special. He was incredibly selfless, and loved everybody he met. But his heart... to give that away… you should be…"

"I know, Kazune. I know," Jin said, barely audible.

The truth was, Michiru had been very, very sick inside. But that wasn't what mattered. No matter how sick he was, inside he was still beautiful. So Jin would smile for him, and laugh, and sometimes even cry. Because it would have been wrong, you know, to not remember somebody who was that beautiful inside.


	8. family

**Messed-Up  
**024. Family

* * *

"I have one messed-up family, Michiru. You are completely and utterly sure you want to go through with this? You know, you _will_ have to attend _all_ of the family reunions. Joyous things they are, what between Kirio and Miyon, AKA, drama queen extraordinaire, Kirika and Yuuki… and don't even get me started on Rika. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my family (okay, maybe not completely) and I love you too. I just want you to consider all your options, because my family is _insane_. Even though you'll leave me broken-hearted if you do leave, I'll understand completely, because I'm not sure I would marry me if I knew what my family was like beforehand."

Michiru put his hand over Jin's, and interrupted his mad prattling by saying, "Jin, my dear, if you recall, I am not marrying your family. I'm marrying you. I believe the obligation is to love _you_, and at the very least attempt to be nice to your family."

"…Is that a yes?" Jin asked timidly.

"Yes, you fool, it is."


	9. why?

**A/N:** I kind of left the characters up in the air. Is it Michiru talking or Jin? Who even cares?

* * *

**Finished  
**080. Why?

* * *

"I finished writing my book. Or maybe, to be more specific, it stopped writing itself."

Kneeling at the grave, he looked back and forth, before turning his gaze back to the gravestone in front of him. "Kind of weird, isn't it? You're buried between two complete strangers… two people you never knew," he said. Lightly touching the stone, he continued. "I had this perfect ending, you know? 'And she married her best friend. Together they made a beautiful life together, bringing three children into existence. They eventually did open their dream pet shop, and yes, they lived happily ever after.'"

He let go of the cold stone. "But then you died, and I guess I just lost heart. Can you believe it? They finally confess their love… and then her best friend-slash-new lover dies in a freak accident. She never quite gets over it. There is no pet shop, and no children, and no happily ever after."

"Why did you have to go?" he asks. There is no answer but the engravings on the stone in front of him:

_Beloved by all, may he rest in peace._


	10. home

**A/N:** ...I really like this one, yeah?

**

* * *

**

**Welcome  
**090. Home

* * *

The concept of 'home' was occasionally lost upon Michiru. He had a house, yes; it was the place he lived. But it wasn't a home. He didn't refer to it as his home, and the last time he had been in his home was when he was six.

If you asked him, "Where's your home?" he would carefully edge around the word 'home,' usually replying, "Oh, my house? It's over there, the sandy-colored one." He never said, "I'm going to go home, okay?" It was always, "I think I'll go back to my place now."

It didn't change when he and Jin decided to share a house. In fact, hardly anything changed – Jin was usually at his house anyways, seeing as it kind of beat a shack behind a mansion.

No, it didn't change. Not until a moment that would forever be frozen in his mind occurred, when his heart felt heavy and full and _strange_; Jin just beginning to unclothe him. And he bolted, to find somewhere safe and _alone_, where his heart didn't feel so filled-up. He sat in the long grass of a forgotten hill that night, thinking until he drifted into sleep.

When he returned, he walked into the house, let out a sigh, and called, "I'm home."

It took a moment, but he could hear Jin reply, his voice traveling slowly through the walls. "Welcome home, Michiru. Welcome home."


	11. days

**A/N: **Camp for two weeks. Trying to cram stories in here.

**

* * *

**

**Twenty-Four  
**007. Days

* * *

It has been twenty-four days since you left home. At twenty-four hours per day, you have been gone 576 hours. At seven days per week, you have been gone for three weeks and three days. At thirty days per month, you have been gone for four-fifths of a month. At twelve months per year, you have been gone for about seven percent of the year. I have known you for four years, and the twenty-four days you have been gone has taken up almost two percent of that time.

You have been gone for twenty-four days, and I don't know why I care.


	12. sunset

**A/N**: -dead-

**

* * *

**

**Eternity  
**032. Sunset

* * *

On humid summer nights, occasionally Jin and Michiru would lie outside together, their overheated, damp legs intertwining with each other (though the physical contact really could have been forsaken in the weather), and watch the sun go down over the ocean.

"That's where we'll go when we die, Jin," Michiru murmured quietly, eyes half-closed.

"Mm? Where?" Jin asked, propping his head up on his arms.

"On the way to sunset… past the stars, following the path to a new dawn." There was a long silence, and it wasn't until the sun was almost completely out of view that Michiru continued. "But, you know, Jin, I would wait for you…I would wait for you into eternity."

The sun went down and all was quiet.


	13. breakfast

**A/N**: MINDLESS FLUFF WTF.

**

* * *

**

**Six Bites  
**056. Breakfast

* * *

When Michiru was in a hurry, his breakfast took approximately six bites to finish. Well, to be exact, it took him about six bites and two licks, and then he was out the door and off to work.

Jin liked watching him rush around, attempting to not be late. It was amusing, in some ways, even though he knew he should play the part of the kind boyfriend who would help him in such occasions. But he much preferred watching Michiru, watching him run around the house screaming '_where are my papers? Jin! Where are they?_' or even better, watching him eat his fruit bite, watching his tongue lick the cherry filling inside…

"You're going to work late today," Jin said firmly.

"What? No! I can't! Hanada-san will kill me for sure! And she's my _subordinate_! I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to not miss appointments and …She'll – hey, what are you doing?"

Jin could still taste cherry on his breath, and Michiru went to work late.


	14. fall

**A/N:** -still dead-

**

* * *

**

**Descent  
**064. Fall

* * *

Michiru was the colors of autumn, Jin thought. His hair had all the shades of fallen leaves and foliage (red and brown and orange and occasionally yellow), and his eyes reflected a stunning day and night sky. But the beauty of autumn, he knew, was not in its external splendor. The beauty of autumn was in its fall, the sad demise of spring blooming into summer, the contrary magnificence of seasons dying, fading, only to be replenished yet again.

(_and like autumn's fall, he was falling too, down to the earth_)

Jin had reached out and caught a leaf in its slow descent, but sooner or later he would have to let it go to its true destination.


	15. lightening

**A/N**: -shudderfaintstilldeadwtf-

**

* * *

**

**Cycle  
**068. Lightening

* * *

Michiru's portrait is dark, with shades of black and blue and purple, the occasional red thrown in and a gray background. He calls it 'Lightening 01' and nobody knows why – this painting does not lighten, it is dark and gloomy…

It sits in the back of the gallery, where nobody needs to look at it. Instead they will gaze upon immaculate landscapes and forced expression. It seems to him that nobody appreciates the abstract anymore.

There is one other, though, a dark-haired teen, no older than he himself (young artist full of hope) who will look at Lightening 01 and vacantly smile. Michiru notes that dark-haired teen takes one of the business cards that Michiru puts around artistically, as though the boring cards are part of the display as well.

Dark-haired teen calls him the next day, says his name is Jin, and he would like to meet with him.

Michiru forgets his name within three hours of the phone call. When he meets with him for lunch the next week, he calls him 'dark-haired teen' until dark-haired teen reminds him his name is _Jin_, and kindly remember it.

He goes back to his studio later that day and paints Lightening 02. The colors are gray and faded blue-purple.

Dark-haired Jin calls him again, to ask if he wants to go out for lunch again. They talk about whimsical subjects that Michiru had forgotten he liked, the faint intangible and fantasy.

Lightening 03 is painted, and it is a rain of colors, with white streaks of lightening in the distance.

Michiru wonders if it is unkind of him to not call dark-haired Jin when he had been doing all the calling up to that point. He does, asks dark-haired Jin if he wants to visit his new gallery, perhaps, on Saturday?

Dark-haired Jin says he'll be there.

A Lightening Cycle is again in the shadows, and people (people who would pretend to be experts of the arts, who would take apart his paintings piece by piece and _analyze_, as though his intentions can be taken apart) ignore what they don't want to see.

Dark-haired Jin is there, like he said, looking at a Lightening Cycle. He asks Michiru if he plans on continuing the series, as he really does like it.

Michiru claims it is completed. Dark-haired Jin looks a bit sad. But Michiru tells him that it's okay. After all, it is a cycle, and eventually everything will run back around, and he would like to keep the circle going.

Dark-haired Jin smiles and asks if he wants to go for lunch sometime.


	16. storm

**A/N**: -revives-

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* * *

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**Before, After  
**

070. Storm

* * *

Jin was like a thunderstorm. He would rage through, and leave whatever he touched in mayhem – chaos. He affected people and places in a strange way, and even complete strangers would remember him for awhile afterwards.

He threw things into disharmony, and he never regretted it. It was just the way that he was, because people needed a little bit of cacophony, if only, perhaps to break up a bit of monotony. He made things more dramatic, more interesting – he made life more fun.

And if Jin was indeed, a thunderstorm, then Michiru was the calm after the storm, because eventually, even though Jin would touch people and change them, eventually, they would always settle down again.


End file.
